Fuji Likes Lady GaGa
by Durnesque
Summary: After a terrible accident that puts his tennis career in jeopardy, he looks for options to fill his time with, which just happens to be the high school track team whose only requirement is to love Lady GaGa.
1. Chapter 1

Fuji Likes Lady GaGa

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis.

FujiXOC

I didn't always listen to music the way I do now. I used to not even own an iPod, because hey, I never needed one. I had one thing that I loved to do. Tennis was my religion, my love, my oxygen. It's not like it mattered anymore.

I was in 10th grade. I had a pretty good life; great friends, good grades, awesome family. I was walking to school on a rainy day, and it didn't bother me. I liked the rain. I will admit, it was a little cold, though. I heard an engine behind me, and my sister popped her head out the window, pulling to the curb.

"Hurry, Shusuke! Get in!" she laughed, rolling up her window. I smiled, and hopped in the nice red car. It wasn't raining that hard, but enough for me to be soaking wet 5 minutes into my walk. "I brought you some extra clothes," she said. We approached a light that had just turned green.

I didn't even see the other car coming.

I don't even remember much from it, I just remember waking up in the hospital. Eiji was there, sitting in the plastic chair right next to me. My sister and mom were there also, but they were talking to a doctor.

I tried to sit up, but a searing pain shot through my spine. I hissed and threw my head back into the bed. The doctor walked briskly over to me.

"How are you feeling?"

"I've been better," I tried to smile, but that hurt too.

"Do you remember anything about the crash?" he asked, his clipboard out.

"No," I tried to think.

"You got hit by a car. Your left arm was smashed by the window and the fender of the other car. It broke your arm in two places, and thankfully didn't do anything but bruise your ribs and spine."

I tried to take this in. My left arm was in a cast, which was taped to my chest. I rubbed my eyes with my right hand, which was covered in cuts. Some of them were stitched, others were just left alone.

"Will it heal?" my mother asked, tears in her eyes.

I reached out my right hand to touch hers.

"It will eventually, but after extreme therapy and rehabilitation. The bones didn't just get broken; the muscles and tendons were all damaged in his elbow."

That's okay, I could play tennis with my right hand.

"Also, I would advise you not to play tennis for a month or two, for your ribs and spine tissue to heal," the doctor said. I breathed a deep sigh. At least I could play again.

We checked out of the hospital later that night, and we headed home. My mother insisted on bathing me. Tears were in her eyes as she scrubbed carefully over my wounds, which were the color of night.

And that's what happened. 1 week has passed since then. I was replaced on the tennis team by some stupid 11th grader, who I felt unnecessary hostile feelings toward. I went back to school the day after the wreck. I didn't need healing time. The only thing I needed to heal from was not playing tennis.

I know it sounded crazy, but I didn't do much else. I still thought about it all the time and it broke my heart every time a thought went through my head, followed by the sinking feeling when you can't do something you love.

Oishi said I should try another sport, but didn't have anything to offer. I dejectedly walked home after a long day in class. I walked by the football field on my way to the bus. The track kids were out running. I stopped in my tracks.

I could run track.

I was fast! I could jump those little hurdles! It wasn't my first choice, but I need something to keep me in shape for tennis again. I jogged over to the track and stood by some bleachers, looking for someone who seemed to be a captain or a coach.

"Lookin' for someone?" someone called. I looked up and there was a girl on the bleachers, her arms crossed. She had a smile on her beautifully tanned face.

"Um, yeah. Is it too late to join the team?"

She jumped down the stairs two at a time, coming to stand by me.

"Aren't you on the tennis team?" she asked, completely ignoring my question. "I hear you guys are pretty baller."

"Yeah, I am," I smiled. "But I got hurt and can't play for a while."

"Bro!" she exclaimed, rolling up her sleeve to show me terrible red scars on her right arm. "I used to be a swimmer, but that dream went down the tubes when I got hit by a car on my bike. Welcome to the club." She grinned and held her fist out for a bump. "The deadline to join was two weeks ago, but I can probably pull some strings."

"Sweet," I said, but the sound of the tennis balls being hit back and forth pulled my heartstrings.

"When can you start?" she asked, examining the runners. "Shoshode! Heels up!" she called, and a blonde boy who was practicing the long jump gave her a thumbs up and a nod.

"Is tomorrow ok?" I asked, desperate from a distraction.

"Sure thing. Practice starts at 3 and ends at 4:45." She took a few steps forward, heading onto the track. She ran in place for a few seconds like she was going to leave, but she turned back to me, that smile playing on her lips. "One more thing," she paused.

I turned to face her.

"We only have one requirement on this team. You gotta love GaGa." And with a smile, she took off, leaping over the highest hurdle with ease.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis.

**Chapter 2**

I was excited when I woke up the next morning. I couldn't help it. I gobbled down breakfast and power walked to school, ending up arriving 10 minutes early. The day went by so slowly, but it was ok. It wasn't even that I was excited to run; I was just so pumped to have something to do.

I changed into a t-shirt and shorts and jogged over to the track, ready to do work.

We warmed up with a mile run, , and by then, I was already sweating, I ran it in a good 6 minutes, but nobody told me that this wasn't the hardest part of the workout. We did a sprinting set that absolutely murdered my hamstrings, and then some sort of interval training that I also didn't know about, and wore myself out quickly. At 4, we split up to do specialty work. Kids that did high jump and long jump, sprinters, distance runners, and hurdlers broke into groups, all with co captains to instruct. I stood, mostly confused, wondering where I should go.

"Hey buddy!" The girl from the day before jogged over to me, a thin layer of sweat accumulated on her forehead. "How're you holding up?"

"Doing alright," I lied. I was dead tired, my legs hurt, and the worst of all, the sweat that built up under my cast. Apparently waterproof and sweat-proof are two totally different things.

"Sweet," she said, examining the runners. "Do you have any idea what you want to run?"

"Well, um, I can run the hurdles kinda." I said, scratching the back of my head.

She smiled, her pearly white teeth glinting in the sun. "Let's try it!" she exclaimed, and skipped excitedly to the starting line. There were a few other kids in the hurdle group, and they all gathered to watch. I wasn't nervous, but those hurdles looked awfully high…

She had me run the full set, and the toes of my following leg his every single bar. I wasn't embarrassed, just a bit flustered, because I used to be able to run them just fine in middle school.

"Hey, good job," she called, returning to my side.

"Yeah, right," I said, but managed a half hearted smile.

"No way bro, you just gotta stretch your groin more. Awkward, I know, but I practically had to learn the splits before I could jump the top bar." She showed me some stretched that I should do every day, then strengthening exercises that I do every other day.

"Wow, I didn't know there was this much to it," I said, after she raped every single muscle in my leg with her terrorist stretches.

"No one does," she said, stretched her own legs. She checked her watch. "8 lap cool down!" she instructed the kids, who listened eagerly. "Run 6, Walk 2."

We ran together in the cool down, which felt like another workout. I had a stitch in my side that was tearing a hole in my ribcage. "So what do you think?" she asked finally, wiping her face with a small towel. She wasn't even breathing that hard. I, on the other hand, was a wreck, sweating and gasping for air.

"I'm thinking this is going to be harder than it sounded at first."

She smiled for the 100th time. "You get used to it."

When we had finally showered and changed, I waited for Oishi to finish showering from tennis, which got out the same time as track.

"Hey," I waved. Eiji was there also.

"Hey, man. You look beat." Oishi said, slinging his bag around his shoulder.

"Yeah, I didn't think that track would be so tough." Even thinking about it made my muscles ache.

We chatted as we walked to the bus stop, passing the parking lot. The track captain was heading toward a red motorcycle that was shiny and spotless, parked under a large shady tree. She had changed into jeans and a long sleeve t- shirt with a panda on it. She settled her helmet on her head, then brought the engine to life.

"She's so badass," Eiji commented.

"I saw you guys talking," Oishi said. "Is she cool?"

"Yeah, she's totally chill, and she knows what she's doing. She rocks those hurdles."

Eiji laughed. "Yeah, she went to nationals every year since she's been on this team."

"Really?" I asked. "How do you know?"

"I'm friends with her younger brother, Kyle. Her parents moved from America to teach English here before they were born."

"Cool," I said, watching her race out of the parking lot and onto a main road.

"You like her?" Eiji asked, as he watched her leave also.

"Nah, I don't even know her name."

"It's Emma."

"Oh," I shrugged. "That's a pretty name."

"Pretty name for a pretty girl, that's normally how it works."

"No way, I used to know a totally hot girl named Agnes."

Eiji laughed again, and then slapped me on the back. "I miss you, Fuji."

"I'm not going to be gone forever. I'm only in track so I can jump right back into tennis."

"Yeah, I can't wait. Even Inui missed you."

I smiled. I missed Inui too.

We had boarded the bus, and it was almost my stop. "Oh hey, do you know anything about the track team and Lady GaGa?" I asked Eiji. He scratched his head and shrugged.

"Who's Lady GaGa?"

"I have no idea," I said. "But apparently she's a big deal."

I walked home slowly, mulling things over in my mind. When I got home, my sister was sitting at the table writing something in a red notebook.

"Hi Shusuke," she said, not looking up from her work.

"Hi, sis. Who is Lady GaGa?"

"Some crazy woman who's popular in America."

Well huh. I walked to my room, passing my mother in the study.

"Hey, mom, who is Lady GaGa?"

She looked up and gave me a curious look. "She's a lot like Madonna."

Who was Madonna?

Was it really that big of a deal? There was nothing mentioned about this crazy woman who's like Madonna in America today at practice. I shrugged it off and did some homework, ignoring the nagging feeling in my head that said I really should look up this crazy chick.

Man, I really wished I had listened to that voice now.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I am on a freakin' roll with this story. As always, review please!

=D

After a week, the pain in my legs finally went away. I'm sure it would have gone away faster had I not had practice every single day, but it was going well. I finally got my toes over that damn plastic bar, and shortly after my dreams were crushed when I was told that they were on the lowest setting. Emma worked with me some on them, but she normally bounced around from group to group, not really focusing too much on a single person, unless they needed help. I wouldn't go so far as to say I had a crush on her, but I definitely admired her, for several reasons. She was smart and very easy to get along with, and a good teacher. It was nice to have your captain help you, rather than just be better than you. Plus, she was funny as shit. I had never met someone who made me laugh so hard.

And she was pretty, too, I guess.

I was held late in grammar class, for a paper that I didn't do too well on. I didn't want to be late to practice, but my teacher would not stop talking about the conjugation of some verb that I really didn't care about. One bad grade was not going to drag down that A that I already had. After she finally let me out, I ran to change, but it was 3:15 before I got to the track. The one time I was late, they were all gathered around the lonely set of bleachers on the other side of the field. There was no way I was just going to sneak in.

"Ah!" a young man who looked to be about 25 cried, a smile on his face. "We have our first singer of the year!"

I turned around to look behind me to see who he was talking about.

"Oh ho," he said, "I am indeed talking to you."

There was an exchange of giggles and smiles between the team. Even Emma, who was leaning casually against the side of the bleachers, had a sympathetic smile on her face.

"We have a no tardy policy, Mr. Fuji." I scratched my head. "You have one week to prepare and then perform, in front of your teammates, a song by Lady GaGa."

My heart stopped. There was NO WAY.

The man started practice with a 2 mile warm-up, and then did practice events. We broke into our groups, and then watched as each individual ran their event. I had practiced jumping the second notch, but I was so shaken I managed to tip one over, and touch all of the others.

Emma ran hers smoothly, and then came to sit by me.

"Hey, bro," she greeted, slapping me on the back. "Tough luck."

"I was held late by a teacher. Surely there's something that can be said for that."

She laughed, shaking her head. "I missed practice because I got hit by a car, and he made me do the same thing. And I warned you. I hope you've been doing your homework."

"I have no clue who Lady GaGa is."

She stared, a dumbfounded grin on her face.

"Am I screwed?"

"Majorly," she laughed.

"Which song did you sing?" I asked, desperately.

"Just Dance."

I groaned, falling back into the grass.

I finished practice half heartedly, managing to tip over every hurdle that I came across. I changed in the locker rooms, and then went by myself to catch the bus. Eiji and Oishi were still at tennis, which broke my heart just a little bit.

"Hey hurdle murderer!" I heard Emma's voice, muffled by her motorcycle helmet. "Hop on."

I spun around to face her. I was still for a few seconds. I didn't have any homework, and my parents weren't expecting me home for anything, so I had nothing to lose. I walked over to her Ruby Red Kawasaki something or another, settling myself on the back. She took off her helmet, and handed it to me. I was hesitant, but put it on anyway.

"Well hold on," she said, noticing my hands on my legs. I awkwardly grabbed her waist, and she took off. She was a good driver, maybe a little on the fast side, but I was never scared for my life. We wound up in the nicer side of town, where big houses with pools and gardens were on every block. She pulled up to a beautiful brick and wood house, with a big pool with a slide and diving board.

"I'm gonna help you out a little bit," she said, then motioned for me to follow her to into the house. The inside was even nicer than the outside. We headed to the basement, which was a big open space with a bed roll, a treadmill, a computer with huge speakers, and a T.V. with a Wii hooked up to it.

She fired up her computer, grabbed a blank disk and opened up iTunes. "I'm not supposed to help you," she said, "but you're a pretty cool dude." She was putting music onto the CD, but I didn't really see anything because she was clicking and pasting and copying so fast.

"Your house is really nice," I complimented. "Is this your room?"

"Thanks! And yep, this is my crib."

Crib. I really need to familiarize myself with modern language.

"Do you swim a lot?" I asked, thinking of the huge pool with the big slide and lane line.

"Well I try," she said. "I don't get much rotation in the shoulder any more. Even so…" she trailed, thinking. "I swim every day, just in case my arm decides to get better."

"You really loved it, huh?"

"Oh yeah," she smiled fondly. "I think I had a good shot at getting some scholarships too."

"You have a good shot of getting scholarship in track, too," I said supportively. "You're awesome."

"Aw, thanks," she said, and returned to the computer.

I had never told her about tennis. What would happen when I could get my spot back on the tennis team? I was planning on just quitting track, but…

"Would you go back to swimming if you could?" I asked anxiously.

She gave me a weird look. "Well I can," she said calmly. "And if I had never gotten hurt, I would have never quit. But…I did make a commitment to being on the track team. Maybe in college I would pick it up again."

Wow, quitting was not going to be easy business.

"You're a senior?" I asked.

"Finally," she grinned. And now that it had been said, she did look older, like she was on the brink of being a woman, but still holding on to childhood.

"Where are you going to school?"

"Dunno. Somewhere in America. But I want to travel for a year or two before I start." A message pinged across the screen, and she pulled out the CD. "Here you go. I suggest listening to the song you intend to sing every minute of every day."

"Which one should I do?"

"Whichever one speaks to you, man." She drove me home on her bike, then waved goodbye as I walked in the door of my less extravagant home. I heard the roar of her engine all the way down my street.

I ate dinner with my family, then popped the CD into my computer. She had written on the CD, "The Fame Monster". I had no idea what that meant, but it started with a song called "Bad Romance," which was full of bass and electronic sounds. Yet, her voice was strong and decent, so I continued.

I surfed Facebook, creeping on people's profiles. I ran across hers, and only had a few mutual friends. We weren't friends, but all of her pictures and info were available. Her profile picture was her and her brother, who was big and bulky, with brown hair, like her. I was going to creep on more of her pictures, but accidentally clicked videos. There were two, one labeled "Epic Computer Chair Jump," which even sounded dangerous, and "Mini Spencer- GaGa Song/Dance." Interested, I clicked.

The camera was zoomed in toward a smaller, but just as cute Emma. She didn't look nervous, but relaxed and totally confident. She then proceeded to sing what I assumed was the most amazing rendition of Just Dance (it was second on the CD, and I had listened to it a few times) that could ever be generated. But it didn't stop there. She had planned out an entire dance routine to go with it, her arm in a pink cast a lot like mine, taped to her body. Her face was torn up, too, but it wasn't as noticeable. She did a lot of one armed flips and fancy footwork moves that all flowed together, and she finished with a double back flip off of the bleachers, landing perfectly. People even stood up and clapped, and her big brother, who I recognized from her picture, came and gave her a high five and a big hug.

Now how was I supposed to compete with that? I turned off my computer, not bothering to listen to the rest of the CD.

I got that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as I crawled into bed. I watched the stars in the sky from my open window.

I was so screwed.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Thanks for the reviews!

On Wednesdays, practice started later, because the coach, which I later discovered was the man who was forcing me to sing, had to work his second job late. Unfortunately, Wednesday was also an extended practice, where we had two and a half hours of miserable training instead of the usual hour and forty five minutes. Practice started at 4 and ended at 6:30, so I hung out under a tree, reading a book for grammar class. I didn't hate track, but it was hard to compare anything to tennis.

At 3:45, my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Tezuka. He called every now and then, and we just talked, like normal friends do.

"Hey," I said.

"Hi," he said, and cleared his throat. "I'm coming home."

I sat up, excited. "Really?"

"Yeah, and I'm going to your school, too." I could almost sense happiness in his voice.

"What about tennis?"

"I'm going to try out for our travelling team," he said. That's what I was on! I Smiled.

We talked for a few minutes, but 4 o clock was coming fast, and I didn't dare want to be late again. Who knew what they would make me do.

"Hey, I gotta go to practice," I said, grabbing my bag.

"Oh yeah, isn't tennis already started?"

"Actually, I'm heading to track practice," I sighed.

There was a few seconds of silence. "You quit?"

"No," I said, heading to the field. "When do you come back?"

"Sunday," he said, "Why are you going to track?" he persisted, his voice the usual stone cold, but I detected a hint of curiosity.

"I'll talk to you Sunday!" I said, and hung up. I flung myself out of my jacket and jogged over to the coach. We did the normal workout, then finally, it ended. I dropped my self onto the cool grass, sweating and aching. I didn't know if today was a distance practice, but it surely felt like it. Even Emma, who always seemed like she had a ball of energy, was sitting on the bench, wiping her red face with a towel. She didn't look like herself; her normal energetic attitude was gone. Maybe she was tired, but something told me otherwise. I sat up, but the minute I moved, she hopped up from the bench and greeted a woman in a pantsuit carrying a clipboard and sporting the shiniest blonde hair.

Emma offered her hand to shake, and the woman accepted. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but the coach was setting up the hurdles. They were on the middle notch, which I had no doubt she could ace. The woman sat on the bench Emma had previously occupied, which happened to be centered of Emma's run. She wiped her face one last time and jogged to the starting line. She ran it perfectly, her figure a blur in the setting sun. The woman stood and smiled and shook Emma's hand one last time after she spoke enthusiastically for a few minutes.

I stood up to grab my things and walk home, remembering the bus that took me home only ran until 5 because it was a less populated one, and more of a school bus than anything else. My legs hurt, but it was a long walk home.

"Hey, Fuji!" someone called from a distance. I turned around to see Emma walking toward me. It was the first time she had ever used my real name.

"Hello," I said, and we walked in silence for a few seconds.

"Have you figured what you're going to sing yet?" she asked, a smile hinting on her lips.

"Well, that's a secret," I grinned. Oh, who was I kidding? I had 5 days to figure out something, and I hadn't even listened to the whole CD. "Who was that woman?" I asked curiously.

"A college scout from America!" she exclaimed, stopping in the middle of the path.

I tried to be excited, but I couldn't get into it. I didn't want her leaving me alone with that dreaded sport, as selfish as that sounded. She was the only reason it was bearable. "That's great." I said, but it came out rather unenthusiastically.

"Hey, what's up?" she asked, cocking her head to the side, studying my face.

"Nothing, really. That's great." I liked talking to her, a lot, even if we didn't do it often. We had developed sort of a friendship, and I liked it.

"Okay…"she said, giving me the "I know you're lying to me" look.

"I thought you wanted to travel?" I asked, as we walked together down the long path to the parking lot.

"Well I do," she mumbled. "But if a college across the world wants to offer me a big scholarship, then that's okay too." She was smiling, something she did often. "Do you want a ride home?"

"Sure, thanks," I said, and we hopped on her red bike, the cool wind whipping her soft hair into my face. She dropped me off at my house, and then took off a few seconds after I walked into the door. I skipped dinner and went straight to my room, popping in the CD. I just sat on the floor, leaning against the bare wall, listening to the music. The entire CD ran through had repeated to the beginning when I shut it off and checked Facebook one last time before I crawled into bed. I didn't get on much, and I had a million notifications from some status I liked a year ago. I accepted a few friend requests from people I knew from track, and the kid who took my spot on the tennis team (begrudgingly, that is).

I flopped into bed, dark rain clouds rolling over the bright moon. I fell asleep eventually, and was woken much too soon by my alarm clock. It was pouring rain, and I can't say I was too particularly thrilled to walk to school. I was eating breakfast when the doorbell rang.

"Who could that be?" my mother questioned as I stood up to go get the door. Emma was standing in the rain, her hands in her pockets, and a smile on her face.

"Hey buddy," she said casually, slicking back her wet hair from her face. "I see you walking to school every morning, and I thought 'well, It would be awfully rude to make you walk that couple of miles in the rain', so I decided to drop by and offer you a ride to school."

I grinned and shook my head, offering her to step in. I quickly put my shoes on and headed to my room to get my school stuff, but when I got back my older sister and mother were standing by Emma, talking.

"This might be a little rude…" my sister asked, "but can I please touch your hair?"

Emma smiled brilliantly, reaching back and untying the mass of twisted curls that was normally tamed into waves. She had very light brown hair, a lot like mine, but it was jacked up into bouncy curls. My sister ran her fingers along a strand, and my mother reached out a hand to do the same. They were fascinated, and Emma just smiled warmly.

"Where are you from?" My mother asked.

"America," Emma responded.

"Oh, Emma Spencer?" My sister said quickly. "Do you have a brother?"

"Yeah, I have two. Dillon is the older and Kyle is the younger."

"I know Dillon!" she exclaimed, and then went on a story about how cool he was. When the chatter finally stopped, she gestured for me to leave.

"Where's your bike?" I asked stupidly.

She gave me an "are you crazy?" look. "I don't want to get completely soaked before we get to school. I drove the car." And of course, on the curb, there was a beautiful Camaro that kids at our school only dreamed about. It was a fiery red that just screamed "ARREST ME!"

"Wow."

She just smiled, and slid in on the black leather seats. It was a stick shift, and there was so much power behind the V8 engine. We listened to some music, and of course it was in English. That's why I was having such a hard time with Lady GaGa. I took an English 1 class, but I couldn't remember a darn thing from it besides "Hello"."

"How do you understand this?"

"I grew up in America, silly."

"You're Japanese is very good," I commented, and then quickly asked, "Will you help me with my song?"

"Sure bro," she said, turning into the parking lot. Even with the distraction, we were there early, so we just sat in her car, listening to some music from her iPod. "What are you singing?"

"I don't know. I want to do a piano cover of something."

"You play?" she asked excitedly, turning to face me.

"A little," I murmured, getting the feeling that she was a hardcore, Beethoven piano zombie.

"Sweet," she said, nodding. "We could work after track if you wanted. I have a piano at my house."

I gulped. That gave me less than 10 hours to memorize (and damn, pick) a song. But I really had no choice. I was meeting Tezuka on Sunday, homework on Saturday.

"We could work on it during the weekend, if you're busy today," she suggested. "Saturday or something. We have the track meet on Sunday."

I felt my heart sink. "We have a meet Sunday?"

"Yeah, don't you ever listen to coach?" she laughed and punched me lightly in the arm. Any happiness that I bore before this morning vanished. It sucked that I couldn't be on the tennis team with my friends. It sucked even more that I couldn't see my best friend forever the day he came back from being gone forever. What sucked the most is that everyone besides me was going to see him, and I was going to be stuck running in a circle and some event that I didn't even like.

She saw my changed facial expression and immediately softened her joking manner. "Hey, bro, what's the matter?"

"It's nothing," I said, but it still hurt. I was being a baby. He was here for good, but I was really excited to see him the first day he got back. I missed him as much as was humanly possible without being gay. I'm not even going to lie; I was borderline homosexual with that boy. "Today is fine," I said.

"Cool," she said, but didn't smile. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine," I managed a half hearted smile. I got out of the car, slinging my bag over my shoulder. It was still raining lightly, and Emma met me in the front of her car. We stopped, facing each other. I was only an inch or two, maybe, taller than her.

"Can I borrow your iPod for the day?" I asked, and she fished it out of her pocket.

"I value this thing more than I will probably value my first child. So if you break it, I will have to break your face," she warned, completely serious. And with that, she wrapped her arms around me, her hair in my face. She had my arms pinned to my side. It was just a quick embrace, but it was enough to rekindle the happiness in my heart for a moment. I smiled as she walked away from me, the rain dripping down my face.

I guess track wasn't such a bad idea after all.


End file.
